Perfect
by HighonLP
Summary: Mac’s birthday the anniversary of her mother’s departure rolls around and she’s alone. She reflects on her childhood


Title: "Perfect" Author: Daphne E-mail: Srtaborradora84@yahoo.com Archive: Let me know if you do Disclaimer: I don't owe them and I have no money so don't sue me. Category: Mac-fic, song fic Rating: PG-13, a few words and deals with child abuse but not graphically Summary: Mac's birthday (the anniversary of her mother's departure) rolls around and she's alone. She reflects on her childhood. Spoilers: Picks up with the current status of their relationship. Author Note: Since we don't know the exact date of her b-day, I just picked one going by the few things we know. And wow, my 3rd fanfic today, lol, that's a record for me. Song: "Perfect" by Alanis Morissette ((can be found in the files section of my group in the Songs for My fanfics folder))  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 2100 20 September 2003 Mac's apartment  
  
Yippie freakin do! I'm thirty-seven years old today and I've never felt more alone in my entire life. The JAG staff wanted me to go out with them tonight, but it wouldn't feel right without.him. This is my first birthday in eight years that he hasn't been around and God help me, I miss him tonight more than ever.  
  
I sit on my couch, half-heartedly flipping through the channels. My birthday was never been one of my favorite days. It's the anniversary of one of the worst days of my life.the day my mother left me behind. The day I was left alone to be abused by my drunkard of a father. I still remember that haunting night.  
  
It was the night of my fifteenth birthday. I was at a friend's house for the night. It was my way of celebrating.getting away from my father. I remember walking in the next morning only to find that she was gone. She left without a word to me. Some birthday gift, huh? After that day, it only went down hill. He didn't physically abuse me too much until she left. But, then she wasn't around for him to take it out on, so I got all the blame for everything that went wrong.  
  
I sigh and turn off the TV before going to my CD player. I put in my Alanis Morissette CD. Angry is good right now. Unfortunately, I forgot about the third track. Tears sting my eyes as the haunting words fill my empty apartment.  
  
**Sometimes is never quite enough If you're flawless, then you'll win my love Don't forget to win first place Don't forget to keep that smile on your face**  
  
I always tried so damn hard. I wanted to be the little girl they wanted. I wanted to be good enough. But as hard as I tried, it was never enough. I remember finishing second in the state spelling bee when I was in first grade.I got the belt to my six for that. Apparently, second wasn't good enough for him. He got mad that I lost to a fifth grader! Well, excuse me, maybe if they would've helped me study once in awhile.or hell, maybe if they'd have given me time to study instead of doing chores all the time! But if I complained, it only made it worse. So, I'd smile and do my chores after getting the "DO BETTER NEXT TIME!" lecture.  
  
**Be a good boy Try a little harder You've got to measure up And make me prouder**  
  
Joe Mackenzie always wanted a little boy. So when I came around, he was very displeased and didn't even bother to try to hide it. So, I had to be his son anyway. My hair was always cut short and I wore little boys' clothes all the time. I only had dolls that my Uncle Matt gave them to me. And I had to hide those because they'd get throw away as soon as my father found them. He treated me little a little man. He never told me he loved me, never touched me in a good way, and didn't bother to hold back when it came to spankings. I guess that's one of the reasons that being a marine wasn't all that hard for me.  
  
**How long before you screw it up How many times do I have to tell you to hurry up With everything I do for you The least you can do is keep quiet**  
  
I remember the few times that I got to go places. He'd walk so fast and my short legs could never keep up. But that was my problem, according to him. He wouldn't let my mother carry me, he's simply say, "Deanne, she was born with two legs for a reason." I remember getting lost in the park when I was three. He was walking too quickly and there were a bunch of people. I got separated from them and sat there crying for an hour. When he found me, I got his belt across my bare six. My cries would only make him angrier and make the swats all the more painful.  
  
**Be a good girl You've gotta try a little harder That simply wasn't good enough To make us proud**  
  
I did all the cleaning around the house. And of course, I always 'missed a spot', even when I'd washed the window a hundred times. He'd come along behind me, running his finger over everything. And nothing was ever clean in his opinion.  
  
**I'll live for you I'll make you what I never was If you're the best, then maybe so am I Compared to him compared to her I'm doing this for your own damn good You'll make up for what I blew What's the problem.why are you crying**  
  
My father was never the smartest or most attractive man. In fact, he was never the best at anything. So, I guess he wanted me to make up for everything he wasn't. I had to be the best at everything or I was trash. When most kids my age were playing with Barbie's, I was doing chores and studying algebra. I didn't really have any friends because I wasn't allowed to go play. "There are better things to fill your time," he'd say and hand me a mop. The one time I started crying because of it he barked, "I'll give you something to cry about!" and I couldn't sit for a week.  
  
**Be a good boy Push a little farther now That wasn't fast enough To make us happy We'll love you just the way you are if you're perfect**  
  
I got made fun of at school for the way I looked and what I wore. And I got made fun of at home because my father thought that it would make me a stronger person. He called me every thing, but a child of God. I was called a whore when I was five. I can't really blame my mother for wanting to get away from him, but I do still blame her for leaving me there to suffer. She knew the things he did to me and she had to know that her leaving would only make it worse on me, but that didn't stop her from walking out the door. Sure, I understand that he threatened her life. But, isn't a mother's job to protect her child no matter what the cost?  
  
I sigh and turn off the CD player and angrily wipe away the tears that are now cascading down my cheeks. I hate that they can still make me feel so worthless. She left 22 years ago.and I ran away 20 years ago. I should be over it by now. But no, all I keep thinking is maybe I could've been better.and what happens if I have children? Will I hurt them the way that my parents hurt me? Maybe that's why I pushed Harm away. Our baby deal is coming up and if he isn't speaking to me then we can't exactly create a child, right? And Clay is a spook; he'd never be able to settle down long enough to have children with anyone. So, I'm safe now as are any potential children that I would have. They're safe from the Mackenzie parenting style.the 'tough love' approach. Yet, I still picture the children that Harm and I would have..God I miss him. I don't care what I told Bud. I miss Harm terribly. I look over at the picture sitting on the end table.the one of us in Afghanistan. I need him right now. I need his arms around me, but I don't even know where he is. And I doubt he'd want to see me anyway. So, I'll just sit here in the dark and cry my eyes out until I fall asleep. When I wake up tomorrow, I'll square myself away and I'll be fine.but I'll still miss him.  
  
The End 


End file.
